


when we're older

by wordcatchers



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Masturbation, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 10:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15772557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordcatchers/pseuds/wordcatchers
Summary: while max focuses on an old photograph and is thrown back in time, chloe is left to reflect on rachel and frank. and max.especially max.





	when we're older

**Author's Note:**

> i'm gay and self-indulgent and that's how this fic happened

Holding the photograph in her hand, she was torn between a fantasy of placing it in a scrapbook someday with Max and tearing it into shreds right before her own eyes, right fucking now. Chloe took a long drag off her joint and flicked the photograph from this morning away, idly watching it flutter to the floor of her bedroom.

Rachel had fucked her over.

Long before that, Max had fucked her over.

And there was her fucking _dad_ …

Chloe wiped the gathering tears from her eyes before they could fall, sniffling hard.

She wished Max were here, and it astounded her that _Max’s_ name had been the first to float to her mind instead of the usual... _Rachel_.

Her eyes fell shut: _Rachel_. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding in. Interlocking her fingers, Chloe stretched out her wrist one way, then another until her bones popped. She heard a faraway echo of Rachel’s laughter, something she’d been clinging to for months now, slowly horrified at how the sound seemed to slip more and more each time she recalled it. She was left grasping at what felt like a glitchy VHS tape now, but she didn’t give a fuck. She’d keep grasping at the memory until it came apart like tattered thread within her fingers.

At some point, though, she had acted the same way with memories of Max. Not the Max she’d had to get reacquainted with, no, but the Max she’d known when they were children, before life had started to properly fuck her over and all the way round.

It was only when she’d nearly run into her old friend with her pickup that everything had flooded back like it’d, cliché or not, only been yesterday since she’d seen Max last. Taking another hit off the joint, Chloe moved to lay against her pillows that she’d propped up against the wall. The wall that she’d graffitied and pissed off her mom and stepdouche with. She doubted her dad would have minded at all. Hell, she could hear him now, laughing good-naturedly as he always did.

 _“We can always paint over it later, kiddo.”_ She could almost feel him rustling the hair on top of her head, like a phantom comforting touch.

Fuck. _Fuck._ She missed him. But she somehow found herself missing Max even more than him and Rachel combined now, probably because she _knew_ Max was just a text away. Her dad’s old cell phone had been given to a refurbishment company, long in someone else’s hands now. The number definitely still existed, as did Rachel’s.

She still checked her phone every night, hoping she’d find _something_ from Rachel. Something. Anything. And some part of her still reflexively tensed in anticipation whenever she received a text, because _it could be Rachel_. But it never was, and it… no, she wouldn’t think like that. She couldn’t think that.

Chloe sunk into her pillows further, eyes drifting upwards to the ceiling. All the times she and Rachel had been in here, dancing like idiots, rolling around on this bed, onto the damn floor until eventually, weeks after they’d first met at the old mill, they made out. Not the near gentile kissing under the streetlamp, but proper making out, touching everywhere, everywhere, _everywhere_. Chloe hated and loved to remember it now, feeling a twinge of guilty arousal in her lower abdomen at the memory.

And earlier today, Max had kissed her.

 _Kissed her_.

Sure, it’d been due to a dare, a double dare at that.

But Max still didn’t have to.

She ghosted her fingers over her lips, nearly feeling Max on her again. Hours later now, she almost hated that she’d jumped back so quickly, but she hadn’t expected Max to suddenly be so damn _gutsy_. That wasn’t the Max she’d known, not entirely. Those rewind powers _were_ having an effect on her, and Chloe found herself strangely loving this new side to Max.

But she was still fucking pissed at her.

Yet here she was, resisting the urge to pick up that photograph again, resisting some strange whim to change her lock screen picture to Max, and resisting the urge to text Max right the fuck now and say she was sorry.

What did she really want, though? Chloe huffed, set her half used up joint in the red Oregon tray, and hopped out of bed, walking over to retrieve the picture from the floor. Only a few hours ago she’d been completely happy with Max, waking up beside her after their escapade of breaking and entering Blackhell. Now she… well, she wasn’t as pissed off as she had been an hour ago. The tendrils of those red-hot emotions were still slightly grasping at her, and she still felt a vague urge to punch a hole into one of her bedroom walls.

But some part of her wanted to escape all of this with Max, because at least she’d come back and apologized. She was… _trying_ to make things better. Skipping classes to be with her, choosing her over that Warren kid, and even… God, she didn’t want to think about that phone call from Kate she’d guilted her into not answering.

She was such a shit friend after all that Max had done so far to try and make up for being radio silent for five years. Part of her still thought she had the right to be that way, but an overwhelming majority of her… didn’t. She wished Rachel was her to talk about this, though she figured what Rachel would say anyway.

“Something like how Max is pretty cool, then probably something about how we should all hook up together.” She felt her cheeks warm at the sudden image that came to mind, because fuck, her mind should not be going to _that_. Realistically, she wouldn’t be into it, either. She was far too selfish to successfully share people that way, and someone was always left out. No, no, _no_ she was going to get her head out of the gutter and back to… yes, back to hating Frank.

That was a safe place to reside in. Not healthy for sure, both Max and Rachel would agree on that, but fuck ‘em. ( _Literally.)_ No. _(Yes.)_

She grabbed a pillow and stuffed it against her face. What was she going to do when they found Rachel? How was she… how were _they_ going to reconcile everything? How was Max going to play into it? (Also, still, fuck Frank in the absolute non-literal sense. He could go to hell.) Chloe felt they were getting closer than ever to figuring this entire Rachel mystery out, but how the fuck was she going to do that without Max, without her partner-in-time?

She knew Max would gladly come back if she texted her, because that’s just how Max was. Utterly fucking forgiving. Sometimes she wasn’t sure if their bond was special, or fucked up, or specially fucked up. Probably, likely the latter. But she was all right with that, because she’d known Max since they were little kids, so of course they’d gone through some specially fucked up shit over the years.

Like Max had said, it _was_ probably destiny that got them back together. However cliché and bullshit that sounded coming from the voice inside of her own head instead of Max’s sweet and soft vocal tones. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed Max’s voice all those years until she’d heard her call out her name.

_“...Chloe?”_

God, what she’d give to hear Max say her name again and again and again.

Not in that kind of situation, of course. She never wanted to see Nathan Prescott get near Max _ever_ again, least of all try to choke her like he had done in the parking lot.

No, what she wanted was what would surely classify as the exact opposite situation.

With her prior anger and frustration now washed over her, a flash fit of rage that could never turn into a blazing wildfire, Chloe had the time to properly reflect on that kiss they’d shared for barely a second that morning. Funny how Max’s first kiss had been with her childhood friend, as Chloe had found out a bit afterward. She felt a bit smug and proud, having that all to herself. She’d always be Max’s first kiss, and nothing, no one could ever take that from them. A part of her, growing ever larger, wanted to be more firsts for Max Caulfield, once all this bullshit was over and things could go back to some semblance of normal.

 _But Rachel,_ a space in her brain called out.

But Rachel wasn’t here. Chloe felt ripped in half, and she felt something building, painful but wonderful, dangerously intoxicating. Forgetting Frank, forgetting the bullshit for the moment, she decided distraction was the best medicine post-weed sesh. Her fingers snaked under the waistband of her jeans, over underwear until she was able to somewhat scratch the itch aching inside of her. Her mind flashed Rachel, but flipped to linger on Max.

In the heat of desire, she had no room to harbor guilt for her thoughts betraying. Not cheating, because she wasn’t _with_ Rachel like that, never really had been. Officially. So this wasn’t… she had the freedom to do this. She bit her lower lip, focusing on the recent echoes of Max’s voice in her mind, imagining it was Max doing this to her, something new, something profound, yet so simple, so domestic at the same time.

Teasing herself in slow circles, she stretched her legs out, kicking off her boots. Toes curling, it was all Max behind her eyelids. Max stretched out on top of her, Max’s hand between her legs, stroking her as she nibbled and licked along the underside of her jaw. They were phantom, somewhat altered “Rachel moves,” more tentative, less ravaging. She wanted nothing more than to pull Max flush against her body and be anywhere else but this week.

She couldn’t have that right now, but fuck if she didn’t have the next best thing for the present, fleeting moment. Her fingers parted the way between skin and fabric, sliding into the slick wetness between her folds as she pulled her legs up, spreading them. Holding back a soft moan that rose in her throat, index and middle finger grinding against her clit, faster, faster, slower, teasing, Chloe pictured Max going down on her, the perfect image of her friend’s tongue against her wetness, sucking on her.

It wouldn’t go this perfectly, their first time, if there ever was one. The way she felt, though, there had to be. She couldn’t deny now that she wanted Max so desperately, fuck everything else going on for these few, precious moments. Max’s voice whispering, devilishly soft, in her ear, fucking her with her fingers, while her other hand ran circles along her breast until she’d lower her mouth to nip at the sensitive skin next to her nipples.

Heat pooling inside of her, skin tingling and muscles trembling, Chloe could hear Max whispering her name against her earlobe before biting it. She continued to stroke herself, fingers teasing at her entrance - not quite going in, not quite ignoring completely - as her breaths grew ragged. She wanted to save Max going inside her for reality, not this fantasy, but fuck if it wasn’t exceedingly difficult to restrain herself as she felt herself reaching the edge.

But. That was also what fucking turned her on the most.

She denied herself her own orgasm for several seconds, pulling her fingers away to immerse herself in the fantasy of Max doing the same to her. Denying her release, kissing the edge of her lips, kissing down, down, down over her neck and along her collarbone until her fingers would come back into play, flicking at her nub. Chloe reflexively jerked at the contact of her own fingers, hissing faintly through gritted teeth, and waited a moment more, coming down just slightly, before applying pressure to it again, strokes increasing in force and speed, tension building, until--

Muscles convulsing, lifting herself slightly off the bed, arousal spilled over and Chloe whimpered as she thrust forward against her fingers, imagining it was Max’s face that framed her shaking thighs, Max who pulled her fingers away only to suck on them, tasting her. She lost herself in several variations of Max pleasuring her to climax as she came back down. Softly panting, she couldn’t help but break into a lazy, contented smile, pulling her hand out of her pants, wiping her wet fingers on her waistband.

“Fuh-uuck,” she whispered, “That was… hella something.”

It _was_ certainly something she wasn’t going to bring up to Max until the rest of this bullshit was over with, but she looked forward to retelling it if Max truly felt the same way about her. She especially looked forward to it if it so happened to occur while she went down on Max; carefully, slowly explaining every detail while she watched her best friend come apart because of _her_.

Another fantasy for another time, though.

For now, she grabbed her phone from the top of her dresser and texted the girl she’d just masturbated to. Because of course, that was a thing you did, she told herself, shaking her head to get into the right zone for this. She’d done it before with Rachel, at least. That helped.

 _“hey man  
_ _i suck again"_

She bit her lip and knew she had to give Max more than that.

 _"sorry_ _i got in your face today and took out my bullshit rage on my best friend"_

Better.

The reply was near instantaneous.

 _“Chloe, I understand. You're going through a lot. We all are.  
_ _Besides, I threw your beanie out the window and busted out my rewind. (^_-)"_

Wow, okay. Chloe chuckled at the image, sunk down into her pillows, and resigned herself to a girl who didn’t listen to her NO EMOJI rule. Not as if Rachel had, either. This time she let it go, though. It was Max, after all.

 _"okay that is your one get out of emoji jail free card  
__but we need to stock up on cigs, coffee and candy for an all-nighter  
__we have to get into_ rachel and kate detective mode"

Back to bidness. Back to friends solving a mystery.

_"Excellent, dear Watson. I'll bring my thinking cap."_

Fucking dork. She loved her.

 _"no worries i have a beanie  
_ _ill swing by and pick you up"_

Another ding.

_"Sweet. I'll be ready."_

No emojis for two texts in a row. She might be falling in love with this girl.

Grinning, Chloe replied after she quickly pulled her boots on.

 _"xoxo  
_ _and that was no emoji"_

She hadn’t even sent Rachel something like that. xoxo… God, she was ruined.

And she fucking loved it.

**Author's Note:**

> the end texts are taken directly from the game xoxo thanks for reading 


End file.
